


A Little Window Dressing

by Dr_D_Fox



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Awkward Sex, Curtains, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fear of snakes, Fear overcome, Helpful Cole, Money doesn't buy everything, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recommend other tags?, Sex can be funny and still be hot, Snark, Tags Contain Spoilers, The Blight (Dragon Age), dad jokes, f/m - Freeform, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-26 06:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_D_Fox/pseuds/Dr_D_Fox
Summary: The annoying neighbor across the street insists he needs curtains, but Varric Tethras is his own man and no amount of harassment is going to make him put up even a little window dressing!





	1. Curtains

The knock on his door was unexpected, but Varric rolled off the couch, groggy and a bit grumpy, and swung the door open. He was anticipating some Mormons or maybe a few of those ‘Green Grass’ salesmen that always thought his lawn needed ‘a professional touch’. Heck, someone from the HOA there to complain about his truck would have been more expected than who it actually was.

She stood just a bit taller than him, awkwardly holding his newspaper and avoiding looking directly at him. Curves graced her form in a way he would normally be appreciating (he liked a girl he didn’t have to worry about breaking), shorts that showed off long, muscular legs, and a light green t-shirt just made the rich brown of her eyes stand out. Huh. Maybe not such a bad thing to wake up to.

“Mornin’. Can I help you with something, sweetheart?”

A blush crept up her neck and cheeks, and her eyes darted to his- then down to his chest and away. Oh ya- no shirt. Eh, her fault for coming by so early. Instead of an unsteady voice and a cute squeak like he was expecting, though, she straightened up and seemed to draw confidence from the very air around her, “Ya, you could buy some curtains.”

What? “Huh?”

Huffing, she shifted her stance and put one hand on a popped hip, “I live across the street, and I would really appreciate it if you would buy some damn curtains. Hell, I’ll buy them, if you’ll just put them up.”

Who in Thedas was this chick? “I’m not understanding how my lack of window décor is affecting you, Miss ‘Across-the-street’.”

Rolling her eyes she shoved the newspaper at him (he didn’t even notice when he took it automatically) and stepped back so she could point to her house, “Despite being all the way over there, I get a full view of your nightly ‘activities’ with the club girls. So does my cousin. And my dog. Now what you do with whom in your own home is up to you-“

“You’re damn right it is!”

“-but the rest of us in the neighborhood don’t need the peep show, no matter how impressive.”

Wait, what? Seriously, _who was this girl?_

Despite his open-mouthed stare and obvious confusion, she continued on with an overly polite and highly strained smile (what he would later recognize as the “condescending-ex-retail-worker-smile”). “I haven’t filed a complaint with the HOA, I didn’t think there was a reason to do that, and I hope we can resolve this as good, friendly neighbors. Sorry to bother you so early. Have a great day!” Not even giving him a chance to respond, she bounced down his driveway with entirely too much enthusiasm. A morning person then. How disgusting.

Regaining a little of his wit back, he shook his head and formed an annoyed half-smirk, “Plucky little bitch. Curtains. Hmph.” The slam of the door was just as satisfying as he thought it would be. Curtains. She wanted curtains? Oh, he’d put up some fucking curtains.

* *

Two days later, just minutes after he’d come home from work, there was a knock on his door. A slow smile curled his lips and the anticipation that had been building buzzed happily under his skin. Setting the spoon in his hand aside, he strode to the door and casually opened it. Sure enough, there was the girl, wearing a rough pair of jeans and a black polo this time, looking like she was going to crack some teeth if she clenched that jaw any harder. What a beautiful sight. “Hello again, darlin’! How nice to see you. Can I help you with something?”

He watched her take a long, slow breath in, before pasting a tight smile onto her face and straightening up, “We seem to have a problem, still.”

“Oh?”

“With your ‘ _curtains_.’” Oh, the ways she emphasized that word was just delicious.

“I went out and bought some. That very day, as a matter of fact. Bit tough on a Sunday, you know.”

Another deep breath, “Yes. Well. While I appreciate the effort, they aren’t quite doing the job.”

“They’re not?”

Slow exhale this time, “They aren’t very thick.”

“I like letting in some natural light!”

“They’re _sheer._ ”

“Have you tried not staring into other people’s windows?”

Now that was a truly amazing color of red for someone’s cheeks to turn. It really stood out and expressed the rising blood pressure they were experiencing! “Considering the fact that our houses are identical, and you know damn well that these big bay windows show everything in the front room, “not looking” really isn’t feasible.”

He shrugged, “Funny, I’ve lived here for five years and managed to never even notice you before Sunday.”

Sometimes he wondered why other writers used the term ‘steaming at the ears’, but it really was an apt description right now. Maybe he’d start using it occasionally, at least in his more cliché works. Mist practically curled into little horns as it escaped her hears. “While I’m sure your powers of observation are lacking enough to make that statement true, I’d like to remind you that there are children living on this street. I would hope you would have the decency to take that into consideration in the future.” Turning on her heel, she stormed down the driveway, absolutely steaming.

Varric grinned even wider, and waved at her retreating form, “Lovely chat! Have a great night!” This was just pure gold.

* *

The phone in his hand trembled as he sat in his car, absolutely refusing to open the door. Normally Varric was very well composed, no matter the situation, but right now he felt like he was about to lose his lunch. He’d come home early in a TGIF sort of celebration, only to find that his front porch was currently occupied by the one thing on this planet that was guaranteed to make him piss himself. Lucky for him the guy on the line didn’t seem terribly judgmental and told him someone would be out shortly to help. Thanking him (and the Maker), Varric tried to stay calm and relaxed. He needed to get out of his car. How would it look to have a grown man huddled in terror, refusing to come greet his soon to arrive savior? For nearly ten minutes he let that shame run through his mind before he finally managed to get the guts up to turn off the ignition, open the damn door, and step out like a man. He even managed to go around to the back of the car and lean against it, casual looking as could be.

When he saw the SUV pull up, “Humane Rattlesnake Removal” emblazoned on the side with a cartoon snake under it, he visibly relaxed and gave a genuine smile. When the door opened and the expert stepped out, though, that smile faded. Oh no. Oh sweet Maker, no.

This time, _she_ was the one with the shit-eating grin on her face, and he was the one grinding his teeth and trying to keep his cool. She bumped the door closed with a hip, a bright red bucket in one hand and a long metal stick with a softly curved hook on the end in the other. Chipper as the first morning they’d met, she sauntered on up and gave him a little dip of her head, “Well good afternoon, _neighbor_! Can I help you with something?”

Not trusting himself with actual words, he just pointed sharply towards his front door. The grin on her face widened, “I’m sorry sir, but policy requires that you take me to the place where the snake is. Don’t want any misunderstandings.”

Revenge wasn’t an unfamiliar term to him, but it was so rare that someone could turn it around like this. Knowing that it was best to just get this all over with, Varric stiffly stood, stomped up his driveway and around the corner of his house, only as far as it took to briefly confirm that the snake was still there, before turning and pointing behind him while glaring daggers at her, “There’s the damned demon. Can you _please_ get it off my property now?”

One thing he wasn’t expecting is for her to _stop_ gloating. Obviously, she would keep on doing it and ham it all up, right? Nope. As soon as her eyes locked onto the beast on his porch, her face dropped to strict professionalism. Striding up to the door, she didn’t even hesitate as she calmly placed the bucket on the ground, unscrewed the lid, used the hook to carefully lift the snake and place it in the bucket then placed the lid back on and secured it. It had been done so gently and efficiently that the sleepy rattler didn’t even buzz once. Now that the animal was secure, the shark grin came back, however, and he groaned under his breath.

Hefting the bucket a little, she tipped her head, “You know, I should really be thanking you.”

This couldn’t be good. “What for?”

Tapping the hook against the bucket, the smile turned absolutely sickening, “I don’t have a scutulatus in my collection of this color variation. The greens are pretty common, but these pink guys are just gorgeous. She’ll be a great addition!” And as was her pattern, she turned and bounced down his driveway.

Instead of getting back into her work car though, he watched with mounting horror as she proceeded across the street and to her house. “Wait!” He scrambled down the drive with no grace or pride at all, “Where are you taking that thing?!”

Key in hand, she turned and gave him an innocent blink, “I already told you. I don’t have one of the pink scuts. Luckily I do have an open enclosure for her, so it’s not an issue. I’ll just put her in quarantine and everything should be fine.”

Insane. This woman was insane. “You… you mean you are _keeping it_??”

The look she gave him made him feel like he was the slowest human alive, “Yes.”

“No.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow. “Yes, I am. I have all my necessary permits to collect this animal for my personal collection, and there are no rules in the HOA or the county against my keeping of this species, or any of the others I own.”

Both of his eyebrows shot up, and he stumbled back a step, “You mean you have _more_?”

Nodding slowly, that nasty fucking grin came back, “Yes. I own a number of reptiles, including venomous snakes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get her set up so I can return to work. Have a nice day!” and she was inside and the door slamming before he could utter anything more than a garbled jumble of fear.

Insane. He’d started a fight with an insane woman.

* *

A week went by without incident (could you blame him for being terrified of doing anything now?). Hell, he hadn’t even picked anyone up at the bars on the weekend! So when a knock came on the door the next Thursday night, he wasn’t expecting to see her again. This time she didn’t look so confident, her hair disheveled and her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Immediately his lips pulled into a harsh grin, defenses kicking into gear, “Well, hello _again_. Seeing as it’s not even the weekend and all I’ve done in my front room is watch bad cop dramas… can I help you with something, _darlin’_?”

That got a twitch from her jaw, but she kept her head down, “My cousin hit his baseball too hard and it went into your backyard. I was hoping to retrieve it.” His eyebrow slowly rose and he watched her clench her jaw again before she pushed out, “Please.”

At this point, Varric would take anything he could to bring her down a notch. “I’ll go get it for you, sweetheart, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” Really, he wasn’t usually this condescending. This woman just got under his skin like a blight, and he couldn’t help but try to ruffle her feathers right back. Closing the door with a satisfying thump, he slowly- very… slowly…- meandered back to his yard. Expecting to find the ball just sitting innocently on his lawn, he was horrified to realize that it was, in fact, floating in the middle of his pool. Seeing as he hired someone else to take care of the thing for him, he didn’t have anything to fish it out. Luckily it seemed to be somewhat close to the edge. Growling in frustration he kneeled down, gripped the edge of the pool, and reached as far as his arms would go.

A few minutes later he stormed out the front door, shoving the sopping wet baseball into his neighbor's hands and trying not to drip all over the welcome mat. Her eyes went comically wide, and the embarrassed look quickly slid to the tight and comical face of someone desperately holding back hysterical laughter. It was hard to look pissed when you were this soggy, but Varric managed it never the less. “Keep your damn balls in your own fucking yard! Next time, I’m returning it through your Maker-damned window!” Not giving _her_ the chance to respond this time, he turned and slammed the door behind him, cursing the whole way into the bathroom to change out of his soaked clothes and dry off.

* *

That Friday he brought home two companions for the Rose. They had a very long, very eventful, very _well lit_ night together.

Monday morning there was a box at his front door. Inside was a lovely pair of curtains that exactly matched the color of his suede couch. He really had to admire them. They were long, mid-weight so they would still let in some light but would afford the privacy a home deserved, and the material was both beautiful to look at and machine washable- probably a good thing considering how hard it was to get whip cream out of dry-clean-only curtains!

Really, they were just lovely.

And they would look great in his study. After all, that window faced the street and just anyone walking by could see what he was writing! It was really quite thoughtful of _whoever_ sent these to be looking out for his artistic creativity.

He put the curtains up in his study, then returned to his front room and called up a girl from Saturday and invited her over. New curtains required a celebration, after all, even if it was Monday.

Tuesday morning made him nearly piss himself. There was a fake snake sitting right at his front door, though it took him ten minutes to remove himself from his ceiling and recognize that the animal hadn’t moved the entire time he’d been screaming and flailing about. He thought that the curtains across the street fluttered a little as he picked the toy up and flung it into the road. That. Bitch.

Wednesday he set up a bar-b-que in the front yard and invited all the single-mothers (and a few of the stray men) over for a ‘neighborhood cookout’. It was a blast, with margaritas and music and great food, not to mention a little ‘after dark’ fun in the house after. Sure, cleaning the upholstery was going to be a bit of a task, but everyone deserved to have a fun night, now and then.

Thursday he found a notice from the HOA stating that all parties must be confined to appropriate weekends, to allow for the working members of the community to get plenty of rest. They were fining him $300 for violating the ‘nice neighbor’ policy.

Friday he went to the Rose.

Saturday she had a kids party and invited every kid on the block. He stopped counting how many balls and frisbees ended up in his yard, on his roof, in his tree, and in his pool.

Sunday he watched some questionable content on his TV while sitting in his underwear.

Monday she installed a ‘security light.’ It shined directly into his front room. It was actually pretty clever since it was not only annoyingly bright, but the reflection basically blocked anyone from seeing what he was doing inside. Damn these narrow streets!

Tuesday he filed a complaint with the HOA. It was only fair.

Wednesday her light had been taken down.

Thursday he was too busy to do anything, so he figured he’d give her the night off.

Friday he got called into the office and asked to work on site over the weekend, so he happily packed an overnight bag and headed out.

Monday morning he drove home and saw something that made him stop smiling.

An ambulance was outside of his neighbor’s house, and he watched as the stretcher was rolled up to the back, a small figure with an oxygen mask over it’s face reaching out to the woman. Her eyes were red-rimmed and he saw her mouth words of encouragement to him. As soon as he was safely inside and the doors were closed, she jumped into her own car and followed the ambulance out of the neighborhood.

Well shit.

He spent his extra day off puttering around the house and yard, pulling weeds and trimming hedges and raking the handful of leaves that were starting to fall from the big tree in the front. And steadfastly _not_ looking at the house across the street, with its lights off and its curtains closed.

Tuesday he went to work.

Wednesday he went to work.

Thursday and Friday he went to work.

Saturday morning he went out the door to pick up his newspaper from the curb and saw her leaning against her car, looking lost and empty, staring at her overgrown lawn without seeing anything around her. When he peeked out his front window an hour later, she was still there. By 11, she’d finally gone inside.

Sunday morning, he pulled out his lawn mower and wheeled it across the street. It took a little revving- the damn thing was a nuisance and almost as stubborn as he was, but it finally kicked in. With his shirt already clinging to his back, he made his slow way up and down the yard. Man, the nights had been getting a bit nippy with fall fast approaching, so how in Thedas the days managed to stay so hot was just beyond him. Sure, it was great weather for pool parties and bar-b-ques, but it _sucked_ for mowing lawns.

About half-way through the front door opened and she stumbled out, eyes puffy and bruised, hair a tousled mess, and satiny little robe hanging off one shoulder, revealing a strappy little nightgown underneath, “What in the Maker’s name are you doing?”

Pausing to wipe the sweat from his eyes, he leaned against the grumbling mower and raised an eyebrow at her, “Mowing, what’s it look like?”

That hard set of her shoulders rolled right in, and he could see her tense up and straighten- ready for a fight, “What, not going to call the HOA this time?”

With a shrug he turned back to the mower, pushing it along again and having to shout over the renewed roar, “Not if I can finish in time!”

She stared at him a moment, open-mouthed and struggling to find words. Normally he’d be smirking, but today he just kept his face serious and his eyes on the grass. Finally, she regained herself, her raised voice sounding equal parts confused and tired, “In time for what?”

“Lunch.”

“What?”

Raising his voice, he turned over his shoulder to shout back, “LUNCH!”

Unable to determine his meaning, she just stood there and watched him go back and forth until the entire lawn was a nice, uniform height, perfectly set to HOA standards. Turning the beast off, he mopped at his forehead again before waving her towards her house, “Go get dressed. Can’t go out to lunch in that. I don’t have a problem with it, mind you, but the servers might.”

She must have been running on autopilot, or just still too shocked to make any kind of protest because she went inside without a word. Getting the mower across the street was a bit of a task, especially with a full bag of grass on it, but he managed eventually. By the time he had tucked it back in the garage and changed into less sweaty clothes, she was waiting awkwardly in her driveway, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, looking for all the world like a dog that was about to get whooped.

Putting on the gentlest smile he could, Varric waved her over to his car and slid inside. She hesitated at the door, but finally slipped in beside him, legs and arms tucked tightly together, body tense and curled- trying to take up as little space as possible.

A full three minutes passed in silence before she spoke, “Where are we going?”

While he flipped the blinker and turned, he glanced at her with as reassuring of a smile as he could manage, “I thought some sandwiches might be in order.” She nodded absently before her gaze drifted out the window.

H&M Subs was a dingy little hole-in-the-wall just down the street. Most people avoided it, thanks to the questionable exterior and even more questionable customers, but Varric loved the place. They had _the best_ sub sandwiches this side of the Frostbacks. And as a famous regular, he always got prime treatment.

Settling into his usual table, he waited for his neighbor to sit down before flagging down one of the wait staff. They bustled over, smiling brightly because they knew that a good tip was waiting for them at the end, “What’ll it be, Mr. T?” the boy chirped.

“Just two of the usual, and some sweet tea.” As the waiter headed off to place their order, Varric turned back to the woman- who looked more than a little confused at being here with him. “Hey, uh… I just realized that I don’t actually… know your name.”

She looked up from the dented table, “Hm? Oh, Hawke. Marian Hawke.”

He felt his eyebrows rise and his eyes widen in surprise, “Hawke? As in, the philanthropist family?”

She shrugged, looking a bit sheepish and maybe a little annoyed, “That was my parents, mostly. I don’t really do philanthropy stuff- not very good at schmoozing.”

Interesting. “Then what _do_ you do? I don’t imagine snake removal really pays the bills in our neighborhood.”

She huffed a little laugh through her nose, “No, I do that for free. I actually run the herpetology department at the zoo. “

“Wait, Ferelden Zoo? No shit?”

That made her actually laugh, her shoulders coming unrolled and her body relaxing a little, “No shit. I’ll admit, it doesn’t pay super great, but I got the house with my inheritance when my mom passed last year, so it’s not actually too bad, living in our neighborhood.”

A few things clicked into place, and he felt like a bit of an ass, “Oh. That’s why I hadn’t seen you around. I knew your mom, at least in passing. She always dropped off those ginger cookies on First Day. Nice lady.” Hawke nodded absently, wilting a little again. Searching for something to say, Varric grabbed the first thing that came to mind, “Do you really have a bunch of snakes in your house?”

She smiled again, indulgently, “Yes, I really do. It’s not as scary as you’d think though. Most of them are in a single room, and anything potentially dangerous has a locking enclosure. Perfectly safe to live across from me, I promise.”

Just the thought of a bunch of creepy, slithery, venomous animals made him shudder, “If you say so, Chuckles.”

Further conversation was ended by the arrival of their drinks and food. Varric dove right into his sandwich, indulging in a little moan of pleasure. Marian, however, prodded at her food like she was afraid it might bite. Swallowing down his mouthful, Varric chuckled and tried to be encouraging, “I promise, it is far better than it looks. Or smells, for that matter.”

Taking a deep breath and shooting him a glare that told him he’d be at fault for any harm the sandwich caused, she picked up the soggy thing, mindful of the juice dripping off the roast meat, and took a tentative bite. Quickly followed by another and a highly appreciative groan that would have been totally inappropriate, had they not been and H&M Subs. “See? Told you you’d like it.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but as no other objections or comments were made, he returned his attention to his sandwich. The next ten minutes were all about the food, and he felt like it was actually fairly a companionable time. He liked a woman that didn’t interrupt a good meal with empty chatter. A good story? Sure. But not just talking to fill the air.

When they finally finished, he was feeling content and settled, and didn’t notice her tensing up again until she spoke, “I don’t need your pity, you know.”

Curious, but an understandable response. “What makes you think I pity you?”

She raised an eyebrow at him as if he should know better, “You mowed my lawn. And took me out to lunch. After everything that you’ve done before this?”

Guilt crept into him a bit, but he shook his head, “It’s not pity, Chuckles. I might be an ass, but I’m not a complete jerk. Besides, I did it for selfish reasons. I didn’t like looking at your overgrown lawn, and I don’t like eating lunch alone. Two birds, one stone.”

The look she gave him told him just how much she didn’t believe anything he’d said, but she let it drop. “Well… thanks. Anyways.”

He nodded, letting a moment of silence pass before asking quietly, “How is he doing, by the way?”

Marian took in a slow breath, a little unsteady at the end, “He’s… stable. For now.” Silence settled, but the journalist in him knew that if he just waited a little longer… “It’s the Blight.”

Well shit.

There hadn’t been a case of Blight in over a year. Not in this town anyways. Where on earth had the kid picked it up, “Shit, I’m sorry Hawke.”

She waved it off, using the motion to hide wiping her eyes, “Not your fault. Not anyone’s fault. Just dumb luck. Carver always had the worst luck. First his parents die in a crash, then his sister in a freak accident at camp, now this. We’re- we’re the only family we have left.” Her voice wavered and for a moment Varric feared that she was going to cry. Instead, she sniffed hard and straightened up, looking him dead on, “Look, you are under no obligation to, but would you mind dropping me off at the hospital? I promised him I’d stop by today.”

That determination, that spine, that sheer will. This girl was made from tougher stuff than anyone he knew, “Sure thing, Hawke.”

As soon as he dropped her off, making her promise to call him to pick her up instead of calling a taxi, he dialed a number on his phone that he only rarely used. There were some strings he needed to pull.

* *

Wednesday night found Varric and Hawke back at H&M Subs, Varric calmly enjoying his meal while Hawke told him, with great animation and enthusiasm, about the ‘miracle’ that happened to Carver. “-and when I asked who the hell he was and why he was in the room, the guy turns around and says,” She dips her head and drops her voice a little, taking on a familiar accent, ‘I am Stroud and I work for the Wardens of Hope.’” She picked up a fry and waved it dramatically at him, voice normal and eyes sparkling, “The Wardens! I don’t know how they heard about Carver, but they did! Hell, after the last outbreak, I didn’t know they still took in Blight patients!”

Varric smiled, pushing his empty plate away and pausing before he took a sip of his tea, “So your little cousin is going to be ok, huh?”

Deflating just a little, Hawke prodded at the remains of her sandwich, “Ya. He’ll have to go to their treatment center, of course, and it could take months, but… ya. He’ll be ok.”

There was something there, but he didn’t press it, “I hear they allow visitors on the weekends. I need to head that way anyways for work, so why don’t you come up with me?”

She looked at him like he’d grown a third head, but there was hope in that gaze as well, “I- I wouldn’t want to be a bother. You’ve already done a lot to help me while he’s been in the hospital.”

Waving off her question, he laughed, “Don’t worry about it, Chuckles. Besides, I need to make it up to the kid for scarring him for life.”

Her laughter rang through the whole restaurant, and he couldn’t help the warm feeling it brought.

As they finished their meal and she paid the tab (she absolutely insisted, and the look she leveled on him when he tried to object left him little doubt there would be retribution if he didn’t back down), Hawke led them back to her car but stopped at the front bumper. The sudden look of embarrassment and shock was enough to make him stop too, curious as to what could have popped into her mind.

“I uh… I never asked your name.”

Oh. Well, that was true enough. “I had never offered it.” Stepping closer he stuck his hand out, “Varric Tethras, at your service.”

Going from embarrassed to star struck was an amusing change for her face. “Tethras? The _writer_? You’re _that_ Varric Tethras??”

Giving her a roguish wink, he picked up her limp hand, gave it a shake, then dropped it to open the car door, “The one and only! How do you think _I_ afford to live in our neighborhood?”

She looked at the keys in her hand as if they would answer her questions, before going around and getting in on the driver’s side, “I guess I just pegged you for some son of a business tycoon.”

He shrugged, “To be fair, I sort of am, though my brother gets that title more than I do. I never was big on the family business, anyway.”

Shaking her head, she started the car and turned to home, “All this time, I’ve been fighting with Varric Tethras.” Her voice held both awe and a lot of annoyance. Varric just laughed.

Somehow, they found themselves out at dinner again on Thursday night, this time stopping at Hightown Brewery for a few drinks and juicy steaks. They split the bill after a solid twenty minutes of arguing, and argued the whole way back to the street about which region produced the better beer- Fereldan or Tevinter.

Friday morning a mixed case of Tevinter stout graced his doorstep.

Friday afternoon a custom box of Fereldan Trappist Ale sat on her porch swing.

Friday night they sat in her freshly mown lawn and drank both the beers and waxed poetic about Antivan wine.

Saturday morning they both piled into Hawke’s much larger SUV (but only after she had assured Varric that there were no snakes still hanging out in it), and headed for the Wardens of Hope Institute in Orlais. They bickered about music, lamented the lack of decent movies in the last year, argued about how to properly prepare chili, and both agreed that Orlesians were the snottiest most pretentious people in Thedas, but damn could they throw a party. It was a three-hour drive that drove him mad, made him laugh, and brought just as many annoyed glares as warm smiles to his face.

If he was being honest with himself, it was the best three hours he’d had in a very long time.

Too bad the instant they stepped out of the car at the institute, someone had to ruin it.

“Varric, my friend, I didn’t expect to see you here today!”

Varric cringed as Hawke turned to him with dawning understanding. He struggled to keep his face pleasant, “Hello, Anders. Long time no see.”

“A very long time, Varric. You know that you could do more than call in favors on occasion.” Anders smiled blindingly, completely oblivious to the daggers that were now being thrown at Varric while they talked, “Still, it’s good to see you! Come inside! I’ll walk you through the improvements we’ve made after your last donation.”

Before Varric could object, Hawke was already storming up to the visitor’s gate, not even giving him a backward glance. He stared after her, debating following her and explaining himself, or staying put and probably keeping his testicles intact.

Finally noticing the tension, Anders raised an eyebrow, “Lover’s quarrel? I didn’t know you’d settled down.”

Shaking his head he flicked his hand to indicate that the Warden should lead the way, “She’s my neighbor. It’s her little cousin that I called in that favor for.”

“You didn’t tell her that _you_ were the one who called us.”

“Ah- no. I left that part out.”

The Warden simply made a noise of understanding, before continuing on through the employee entrance. Varric couldn’t help but watch as Hawke checked in and was buzzed into the building. Well, depending on just how pissed she was, he might be _walking_ back home.

Visitor’s hours lasted until 7, and Anders was surprisingly pleasant company for those six hours Varric waited. A grand tour of the new facilities and upgrades was given, including a tour of the grounds and a brief glimpse into the upgraded quarantine area (where Varric very carefully did _not_ look for Hawke), took up most of the time. Brandy and nostalgia took up the last two hours.

Finally, as the time to leave approached, Ander’s gave him a long, hard stare. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you act like this, Varric. Not since _her_.”

Grumbling into his nearly empty glass, Varric looked out the window at the rapidly darkening sky, “I don’t know what you are talking about, Blondie.”

“Mm. I’m sure. How is Bianca, by the way?”

Snarling now, Varric shot a glare at the Warden, “You know damn well she hasn’t given me the time of day in a few years. Why should she? I’m not political enough to raise her status in the world.”

Rolling his ice around, the healer gave him a long look, “And this girl?”

“Just my neighbor.”

“Awful lot invested in just a neighbor.”

Varric shrugged, trying to reign in his temper and go for nonchalance, “An interesting neighbor.”

“Interesting.”

Now he wasn’t sure if Ander’s was repeating his words or making a comment on the situation, but frankly, he didn’t give a shit. “Well, it’s been great chatting with ya, Blondie, and I’m glad the money’s done the place some good. I should go though, before my ride leaves without me.”

Standing, he offered Ander’s his hand, which he took carefully, “A pleasure as always, Mr. Tethras. Try to visit again soon, hm?”

Ignoring the weighted comment, Varric let himself out and wound his way through the maze of halls and back to the entrance. Perfect timing- there Hawke was, look a lot less pissed as she signed out, smiled at the receptionist, and exited the building.

With no small amount of trepidation, Varric moved to intercept her, hoping that he could salvage the situation, “Hawke, look-“

She cut him off with a raised hand and a blank stare, “I told you before that I didn’t need your pity.” Something dropped into the pit of Varric’s stomach. She continued, but with an almost mechanical precision to her words, “However, I am grateful that my cousin will be well cared for here.”

That was it. Nothing else, and no room for him to respond. She waited for him to get in the car, then she climbed into the driver’s seat and started them for home.

It was the quietest, most painful three hours Varric had experienced in a very long time.

* *

Coward.

Varric was a complete coward.

He spent the next week doing exactly nothing but work at the newspaper and writing (or more accurately, starring at a blank page) at home. There were no midweek parties, obnoxious notes, no girls over on Friday- nothing. Just work and home and sleep and work.

On Saturday he watched Hawke pack up the SUV and leave early in the morning, not returning till late at night.

On Sunday he received a phone call.

The thick accent on the other line was easily placed, “Hello, Mr. Tethras.”

“Warden Stroud. Can I help you with something?”

“It seems that Ms. Hawke has decided to take over the payments for young Carver’s care.”

Pause. “I see.”

“We will return the last check you sent us so that you can ensure it is properly voided. I wanted to call to let you know it would be in the mail.”

Despite being on the phone he waved his hand at the comment, “No, go ahead and consider it a donation. Use it for the next kid that can’t pay or whatever.”

“That is very kind of you, Mr. Tethras.”

Eyes drifting to the window and out across the street, Varric muttered, “It’s my pleasure, Warden Stroud. Good day.”

“And a good day to you, sir.”

Take over the payments. Well, with the inheritance she was sure to have received from her parents, she must be able to afford it. He shouldn’t have assumed that she couldn’t in the first place. Maybe she was right to be pissed. She would have called the Wardens eventually, right?

* *

Friday evening Varric was happy to be heading home. It had been a long day in the office, with all the scandals embroiling Kirkwall’s political arena, and all he wanted to do was open a cold beer (there was one Tevinter stout left in his fridge, calling his name), and watch some mindless movie. So it took a moment for his worn out brain to register the sign in front of the house across the street.

When he did, he slammed on the breaks and stared.

“For Sale by Owner”

No.

Shit. SHIT. That stubborn fucking woman!

Pulling his car into his driveway he barely managed to turn the damn thing off before storming across the street and up her driveway to bang on her door. He heard a muffled shout from deep in the house, then approaching footsteps before the door was thrown open.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Only serving to rile him more, Varric puffed out his chest, “You’re damn right it’s me! What is that sign doing in your yard?”

She eyed him tiredly, “I’m selling the house.”

“The fuck you are!”

One eyebrow crept up, “Excuse me?”

“You stubborn ass- why couldn’t’ you just let me pay for the treatment, Hawke?”

A second eyebrow joined the first before both dropped ominously low and she hissed at him, “I’m not discussing this out here.”

“Then I’m coming in because we are fucking discussing this right now.”

With a huff of annoyance, she threw the door open the rest of the way and stepped back to let him through. Stomping in he made it all the way to the main room before turning and glaring at her, “Why couldn’t you just let me do this? You could keep your damn house then! It was all fine and good when you thought it was an anonymous donor, but the instant you find out it’s me you let your pride and issues with me get in the way of doing what’s right!” His chest heaved and he finally took a long enough breath to let her speak.

“You done? Good.” Eyes narrowed she closed the distance between them, “I already told you I don’t need your pity, and that includes your pity money.” Her voice softened and she seemed to wilt a little, “I’m grateful that you pulled the strings, but the sale on this house will more than pay for Carver’s treatment. What do I need a big fancy place for, anyways?” The finality in her voice just about killed him.

His own anger dissipating, he sighed, “And just where are you going to live once the house sells?”

With a shrug she angled around him to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge for a bit as she spoke, “Probably go rent something in the valley. Carver’s going to be in the Institute for a few months at least, so I can probably get by with a studio for a while and save up.”

This couldn’t be it. “What about your inheritance?”

She popped up from the fridge with two bottles of the Fereldan ale, “You’re standing in it.”

Well, that wasn’t what he expected, “You mean this is it? You family were the wealthy snobs that they were and all you got was this house?”

She gave him a sad little half-smile while passing him one of the open bottles, “That’s almost a t-shirt slogan. ‘My parents were wealthy snobs and all I got was this crummy house.’”

“This isn’t a joke, Hawke.”

“I guess that’s why neither of us are laughing.”

That hit a little close. What could he even say? This couldn’t be it.

She sighed and sat down, taking a long drink from her bottle before speaking again, “Look Varric, I’m grateful, I am, but I don’t need to be anyone’s charity case.”

Gripping his bottle tightly he glared at her, “Is _that_ what you think this is? A charity case?”

Her eyes were dead serious, face bland, “Isn’t it?”

“No, Hawke!”

“Then what is it?”

Was there anything he could say to that to make this right? Did _he_ even know what he was doing? She took his silence to mean he was lying, and just shook her head sadly. He left ten minutes later, without another word having been said.

* *


	2. Chapter 2

Varric Tethras was a stubborn man.

There wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t look out his window at the closed curtains of the house across the street and wonder what had gone wrong and how he could fix it.

Each day he woke and went to get his briefcase from his study, and stare at the curtains that were hanging in the window, wondering if maybe he should move them to the front room today.

Every evening he picked up his mail and thought about walking across the street, knocking on her door, and apologizing.

But somehow, every single day, he turned away from the window, put off moving the curtains, and took his mail inside. Each time he thought, ‘Maybe tomorrow.’ Tomorrow came, and nothing changed.

Until it did.

The office called him on a Tuesday morning, telling him there was a big story in Redcliffe and they needed him to go cover it. With a bit of reluctance, he packed a bag for the three-day trip, and grumbled about having to leave in the middle of the week. His publisher was expecting him to come in for a discussion on his next book on Thursday, and he hated having to delay that till the next week! Life of a journalist though- never knowing when you’d have to drop everything and head to a story. For a brief moment as he was packing his car, Varric stopped and looked across the street. She was probably at work, right? Maybe he should say something before he headed out? He’d already taken two steps down the drive when his phone rang- ugh, his publisher.

“Hey there, Cass. I was just about to call you, I swear.” He’d stop by her house when he got back. Promise.

From the other line there was a disgusted noise of disbelief, “I find that unlikely, Varric. And please don’t call me that.” One thing always made his day- harassing his publisher.

* *

Wednesday was spent recording the events of the ousting of Judge Alexius from the court and his barring of practicing law due to the corruption uncovered.

Thursday Varric interviewed lawyers, past and present, who had been in court with the Judge.

Friday he met up with an old friend. Dorian had been a key character witness for the defense, but it backfired horribly when both he and Felix, Alexius’ own son, revealed the suspicious behavior and meetings the Judge had been having. Beyond just getting an inside scoop on the story, Varri was pleased to catch up with Dorian.

They sat in Dorian’s quaint little home outside of the hustle and bustle of Redcliffe proper, sipping Antivan wine and winding down from the long day. Varric looked out the window, wondering if he should bring some of this back for Hawke, as part of a proper apology.

“You know, that’s the third time you’ve sighed in the last ten minutes, Varric.” The Tevinter lawyer smiled kindly.

Confused, Varric turned his attention back to his friend, “Really? I hadn’t noticed. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“What’s her name?”

Feeling his defenses go up, Varric swirled his glass and tried for a casual tone, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sparkler.”

Dorian just shook his head, topping off both their glasses, “You might be an excellent liar when it comes to other people’s business, but you really are awful about hiding your own.” Sitting back he took a long drink, then set the glass aside and settled in, “Well?”

Was it really worth the fight? After all, Dorian was right, Varric had been thinking about a woman, just not in the way the lawyer thought. “It’s not like that. She’s my neighbor.”

“Oh? What isn’t it like, Varric?”

He waved his hand towards the mage, downing the rest of his glass- he was probably going to need it, “Like what you’re thinking. She’s just my neighbor. Maybe a friend- or, could have been a friend.”

“Let me guess- the great Master Tethras, writer and orator extraordinaire, put his foot in his mouth and ruined a perfectly good relationship?”

Varric shook his head, laughing a little, “Not exactly ‘perfectly good’.” When Dorian raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, “You see, I’ve never bothered with curtains in the front room…”

For the next few hours, Varric regaled Dorian with the entire story- snarky comments, awful ‘pranks’, pleasant lunches and the sad ending, all included. It felt good, cathartic even, to get the entire story out there for someone else to analyze, and seeing Dorian’s reactions- pleasant laughter, awkward cringes, sympathetic smiles, and disappointed shakes of his head- helped to solidify it for Varric as well. By the end of it, night had fallen and a second bottle of wine had been consumed. Perhaps that last glass had been the one that tipped him over, but suddenly Varric found his voice gone, and a deep regret settling into his chest. He should have apologized before he left.

Dorian, always magically able to read between the lines, shook his head sadly at the writer, “You really are in deep, aren’t you, my friend?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was a little hard to keep his eyes focused, but Varric managed it well enough.

Shaking his head, Dorian stood and took the empty glasses and gestured to the couch, “I don’t’ think you’re in any position to drive. Feel free to crash on the couch tonight. It was good to see you again.” With a squeeze of the shoulder, he left Varric to sit and stare at the dying fireplace and wonder about the mess he’d gotten into.

* *

Saturday morning came with a headache, a hot cup of coffee on the table and a pack of ibuprofen sitting on a note from Dorian himself. Varric downed the pills and half the coffee before reading the note.

                                _Varric_

_Assuming your ability to drink in excess and still remember sordid secrets hasn’t failed, I hope that this morning finds you a little more clear about your_ own _secrets. I’m not one for giving out a lot of advice- that’s your job- but as your friend I feel obligated to say this._

_Don’t let her slip away._

_You’ve been a daft fool about this whole thing and its as obvious as your ridiculous chest hair how you feel about Hawke. If you don’t go back home this instant and make amends, I will track her down myself and tell her about The Incident, just so she has better fodder to use against you than a missing set of curtains. I might even drag your other friend in- the one that runs the cruise ships. Whatever her name is.- and spill even more of your secrets to this woman. Stop trying to deny it and live this silly bachelor life you’ve made for yourself!_

_Hope to see you again soon,_

_Dorian P._

 

That meddling son of a Tevinter bitch.

Luckily everything was wrapped up here in Redcliffe, so it was time to head back home- otherwise he might have barged into Dorian’s office and given him a piece of his mind. Varric shoved the last of his things back in his car, stopping along the way to pick up two good bottles of Antivan wine.

Meddling Tevinter.

The traffic was horrific heading back home, and it was incredibly late by the time Varric pulled into his driveway. Determined to do this right, he unpacked the car, showered and changed so he didn’t smell like fastfood and old leather, picked up the two bottles that he’d put to chill in the fridge, and stomped across the street.

Damn Dorian.

Something was off, though, and it wasn’t until Varric had raised his hand to knock that it started to register- and his heart plummeted. Scrambling back from the front door he ran to the big bay windows and stared inside.

The curtains were gone.

He peered into the window, hoping that maybe they’d just been cleaned? No.

Everything was gone.

The house was empty.

He was too late.

* *

If at any point in his life, someone had told Varric that he would be excited to see a rattlesnake, he would have laughed them out the door. But here he was, standing in his driveway, grinning from ear to ear because there was a rattlesnake sitting in front of his door. It was real. He’d checked. It rattled and hissed and terrified him, and he was absolutely delighted!

After finding Hawke’s home empty, Varric had gone back to his own home and killed off both of the bottles of wine before sending Dorian a very angry email about what the lawyer could do with his opinions.

Sunday he’d bought a set of curtains for his front window and kept them closed all day, refusing to acknowledge that he had a front yard at all, much less neighbors. If anyone asked, it was a total coincidence that they perfectly matched the ones in his study and no, he did not spend the entire damn day searching for the same curtains. Coincidence, the entire thing.

Monday morning, he went to work. While at work, he had trouble concentrating. All he could think about was how he should have just fucking apologized, found some way to make it up to her, and maybe asked her to go to dinner or movies or _something_. Anytime someone talked to him, all he could think was how dull they were and how they didn’t have her ability to get under his skin and how he should have just _fucking apologized._

Now, here they were, enjoying the cool fall weather at 5pm on Monday evening, and Varric couldn’t help but grin at the snake. He’d called the removal company again, happily giving his address and eagerly waiting by his car.

This was it.

He could say sorry, he could get her number, he could take her out to a nice dinner and everything would be fine. Damn, he’d have to send another email to Dorian, apologizing for his drunken rant…. Eh, he’d call the man later instead.

When a dark SUV pulled around the corner, Varric took a deep breath in, and tried to calm his nerves. There was the writing on the side, “Humane Rattlesnake Removal”. The door opened.

And out stepped a young man in his early twenties. Varric visibly deflated.

That wasn’t Hawke.

The boys nametag said ‘Cole’, and his blonde hair hung into his wide blue eyes in a way that made Varric wonder if he could actually see. Was the ‘surfer look’ still even in?

“H-hi. We got a call for this address? Um, a snake removal, right?” This guy must be really new. He practically squeaked- fresh out of the package.

Sighing, Varric nodded, “Ya, this way, kid.” With no hesitation, he led the boy up the walkway and pointed to the snake, still happily basking in the sun on his welcome mat.

‘Cole’ shuffled past him, all long limbs and awkwardness, only to brighten suddenly at the site. “Oh!” He set the bucket and snake hook down and closed the distance between him and the monster and _picked it up!_

“What are you doing??” Varric shouted, leaping forward as if he could stop the horror scene from unfolding.

To his complete surprise, the snake just coiled placidly around the kid’s hand and wrist, flicking his tongue and looking only mildly perplexed. The kid smiled and turned to Varric, “This isn’t a rattlesnake, sir. It’s a harmless Gopher Snake.”

Varric was sure that he gained at least another five grey hairs, and knew his eyes were giant saucers, “Harmless.”

“Yep!”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course!”

“But I saw it rattle.”

“Oh!” The boy pet the snake while he talked, lighting up with enthusiasm, “Most snakes rattle their tails- it’s actually a sort of universal warning sign. Rattlesnakes evolved their rattles _because_ it was a behavior they already exhibited. Even snakes that live in other parts of Thedas will rattle their tails if startled.” He held the demon out towards Varric, “Do you want to pet him?”

It took a lot to not run screaming, but after a slow breath (and maybe a tiny backward step) Varric shook his head and smiled indulgently, “Ah, no thanks, kid. He seems to like you better.”

Cole looked down at the snake, then just smiled and shrugged, “Well, since he’s not venomous, do you still want me to take him away? They’re great for keeping rats away.”

At first Varric wanted to give a big ol’ ‘yes!’ and have the thing taken away. But a pair of rich brown eyes flashed in his mind, and he sighed, “No, I guess not. If you’re sure he can’t bite me or anything.”

“Oh, he can bite, he’s just not venomous.”

…”Right.”

“I’ll just put him in your back yard. It looks like you have lots of bushes back there. He’ll keep the rats away.”

“Ah… thanks. I guess.”

The boy hurried about his task, confident in his words and actions now that he was doing something familiar. It was interesting how much people could change when they knew what they were doing, wasn’t it?

When the boy came back, sans snake, Varric stopped him, “Hey, uh, there was a girl who came out last time. Bit older than you, works for the zoo. Hawke?”

Cole looked off to the right, nervous and unfocused again, “She’s very good at her job.”

“Um, ya. Is there, do you have her number? I uh, had some questions about some of the… information she gave me last time.” Oh Maker, he sounded like a complete liar even to his own ears.

The kid didn’t seem to notice, though, “She’s the one that trained me.”

“Oh? That’s cool, kid. Her number?”

The boy rustled in his pocket and pulled out a tiny stump of a pencil and a pocket-sized notebook. After scribbling it down he flashed a shy smile, “Have a great night.” He ripped the paper out and handed it over.

Varric didn’t even notice the kid scuttle off, “Ya, you too.” he responded automatically as his eyes took in the numbers on the paper.  “You too…”

*

In general, Varric considered himself a ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ kind of person. Whenever an idea got into his head or something needed to be done, he’d just do it, damn the consequences. This time, however, Varric needed a plan. Deciding to actually plot something out for once was the easy part- figuring out what that plot was going to consist of was… well.

Currently, the paper on his desk read:

                “ _Buy more wine (do not drink)_

_Find better shirt. Iron?_

_Go to her house._

_???”_

That didn’t feel like a very good plan. The beginning was good, but after that the middle just kind of got lost.

He’d debated going to the Fereldan Zoo and surprising her there, even thought of maybe using something from work, a news story or whatever, as the excuse. But damn if that didn’t feel like a trick that would just make things worse. No, he needed to be honest about this approach.

Fuck it.

Grabbing his keys off the table he stomped out the door- only to realize that it was already night. Pretty late if the sky was anything to go by.

Well shit.

Yes, he wanted to go and talk to her and apologize right this second, but no, going there at- he paused to look at his phone- eleven at night was probably not the way to do it.

Fine. This was just going to have to wait. Shit, it might have to wait till Saturday. No, she came home after the zoo closed, so would it be rude to go over at like, 8pm? How late was too late? Shit. This wasn’t working.

He didn’t realize he was still standing in his driveway until a neighbor walked by, one of the young doctor types, and gave him an awkward wave. Oh, right. Giving a half-hearted wave in return, he turned heel and went inside to pen another email to Dorian. It was the Vint-bastard’s fault he was in this tizzy, and by the Maker he’d help him get out of it, too!

* *

Wednesday was a disaster.

Dorian hadn’t gotten back to him till late on Tuesday, so Varric had to wait a whole extra day and the entire time his brain was playing scene after scene of what could happen tonight.

                _“Varric? Why are you here? Go away. Here’s a restraining order.”_

_“Oh Varric! I’m glad you came, I’m sorry for overreacting, let’s try again?”_

_“Ugh, Varric you creep! How’d you get my address??”_

_“Varric! I was just coming to get you. Let’s go make out for an hour!”_

Ok, so that last one was especially over the top and made him turn twenty different shades of red. What the hell was wrong with him?

All that nonsense aside, he’d finally gotten off work and made his way to the part of Kirkwall so fondly called “Lowtown.” Alright, maybe not so fondly. The streets were older, narrow, and despite being only about seven, already had some questionable types wandering around. Worry after worry piled up in his mind until he was almost frantic to get to her place, convinced it would be some awful crackhouse with broken windows and no heat to ward off the cold fall night. Therefore, it took him a few minutes of driving to realize that, while he was still in Lowtown, the housing and apartments really weren’t half bad. With his GPS guiding him, he found her new little house was only a few blocks away from the Zoo, situated near a beautiful community garden, and while small, really not in an awful area.

Pulling up to the drive, didn’t see a car in the open garage, but there were lights on and movement behind the closed curtains. Taking a deep breath, he threw the car in park and got out. Bottle of wine in one hand and a wrapped present in the other, he went up and rang the doorbell.

A muffled shout came from the back of the house, and after a moment he heard footsteps approaching the door. Putting on his best apologetic smile, he took in a deep breath- ready to apologize before she could start yelling.

But when the door opened, he promptly let it out.

A young woman with wide eyes and dark hair, barely as tall as he was, peered curiously at him from the doorway, “Can I help you?” Well, that was a thick accent!

“Oh, um. I might have the wrong address. I was looking for Marian Hawke?”

The girl smiled, demeanor completely changing, “Oh! She’s not home yet- emergency at work and all. You have the right house, though! Do you want to come in and wait for her?” She opened the door wider in offering.

He hesitated a moment. Yes, he wanted to go in, but he wondered if that would be overstepping- no, he _knew_ it would be overstepping. “Ah, no thank you Ms….?”

“Oh! Merrill. I’m a friend of hers from college.”

“Merrill. Thank you, but I think I’ll just leave these with you. A little ‘house warming’ present for her-“ he handed over the Antivan wine, “-and something for Carver the next time she visits him.” Then the wrapped present. Merrill beamed at him, making him feel a little more awkward, “Well, thank you Merrill. Have a great night.”

It wasn’t until she’d waved goodbye and he’d driven off that he realized- he’d never told the little flower what his name was, and there wasn’t anything written on the present.

Well shit.

* *

Isabela and Dorian were a combination that Varric never, ever, wanted to see. Too bad they were dragging him along to an early dinner to pick apart his life and probably spend hours making fun of him while bickering over the best way to play matchmaker.

Joy.

It might have been partially his fault, if he was honest with himself. His email on Wednesday night had been pretty bleak and pessimistic- not really normal for Varric- and he’d ignored Dorian’s email on Thursday and phone call on Friday. Apparently, that was enough for the Tevinter to hold true to his threats and track down Varric’s high school friend turned cruise ship captain. Maker’s saggy balls, why did he keep her on his social media? This woman was a pest. Not that Dorian was much better.

Twenty minutes into dinner on Saturday night, as Varric was flagging down a waitress for a refill on his ale, he realized that despite them spending a good half the conversation talking _about_ him, they hadn’t done much more than ask him quick yes or no questions. In the last five minutes they had debated, with great fervor and detail, the merits of him showing off more or less chest hair. While it was an amusing conversation, it was one he was rapidly getting tired of. “I’ll be right back.” Scooting awkwardly down the booth, he slid out, unnoticed, and slipped onto the back patio.

The air was crisp, bordering on cold, and he was grateful for the duster he’d brought with him. There were only a couple people on the patio, mostly smokers trying to get a few puffs in before returning to their parties inside. It was quiet, with only the soft hum of the music behind the doors, and murmured words of the people leaving the restaurant.

“You haven’t seen her yet.”

Varric yelped and spun around, clutching his chest as he confronted the mystery voice. Standing in front of him, apron slung over one shoulder and uniform shirt untucked, stood a vaguely familiar face. “Cole?”

The boy didn’t even acknowledge his name, just furrowed his brow a little in confusion and maybe… hurt? “I thought you were going to go see her. I gave you her address.”

Rubbing his chest with a slow breath in, Varric shook his head, “I tried, kid. She wasn’t home.”

“Oh.” There was a long pause, during which the kid just stared at the floor in an eerily still way, before he spoke again, “You could talk to her _now_.”

Socially awkward was something Varric had a bit of a hard time handling, but mostly because he just wanted to take the kid under his wing and help him connect to humanity a little better, “I’m sure she is home, but it’s a bit late, and I wouldn’t want to be rude.”

“She’s not at home right now.”

Now it was Varric who was confused, “Huh? How do you know that?”

“Because she always drops me off on Saturdays for my second job.”

Puzzle pieces started to slide into place, “You mean she’s here.”

Cole nodded and pointed behind Varric, “Though not for long.”

Whipping around fast enough to make his head spin, Varric saw her. She was in a short black dress, strappy little heels, and even though she was walking away from them, Varric knew she was smiling just from the bounce in her step. Shit!

He scrambled past Cole, shouting a quick thanks, before pushing inside. Someone shouted his name from his table as he raced past, but he flicked a hand at them and continued right out the front doors, “Hawke!”

Too late. She had already gotten into her car and was pulling out of the parking lot. He could probably go running after her, but damn that was desperate and honestly, she probably wouldn’t even see him.

Shit.

“Sir? If you are leaving, you need to pay your tab.”

The Maker was laughing at him. That was the only explanation.

* *

Isabela and Dorian had wanted Varric to go after her right that instant, but he pointed out that she’d been wearing clothes for going out, not heading home. That stumped them. Then Isabela pointed out that she could be going on a date, and asked Varric if she had been seeing anyone.

Oh.

He’d never asked.

Now it was Thursday, and Varric was tired. Despite the urging of his friends, he had abandoned his attempts to see Hawke again. She was funny, sharp as a whip, beautiful, confident, smarter than anyone should ever be- and the possibility that she was still single was basically zero. Varric wasn’t sure when that started to matter so much to him- this was just supposed to be an apology!- but it did matter, and now that it did, he just couldn’t bring himself to intrude on her. The absolute last thing he ever wanted was to go through what he had with Bianca all those years ago. Playing second fiddle wasn’t his strong suit.

So, he just stopped trying.

Sunday he stayed home a sulked, working on his new story and then scrapping it every ten minutes because he wasn’t supposed to be writing a damn sappy romance.

Monday he’d called out of work, just because he could, and stayed home watching bad cop dramas.

Tuesday he’d gone back to work, but really didn’t get much done. He even stayed overtime just to try and feel like he might have accomplished something. Nope.

Wednesday he’d come home and torn down the curtains in the study and the front window and tossed them both in the garage, then watched more cop dramas but this time in his underwear. Because he could. Before he went to bed he put them back up in guilt, but left them open and fell asleep on the couch.

Now it was Thursday, and he was laying on his couch, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, the other dangling off the edge. Somewhere in the background he could hear a catchy little tune pop on for the Fereldan Zoo. He threw a pillow at his TV without moving more than his dangling arm. It didn’t make the commercial stop, but it made him feel a little better.

When the doorbell rang he ignored it.

It rang again and he snarled, turning his back and facing the couch. They’d leave if he didn’t answer.

As it rang a third time he snarled and leaped up, “Alright! Alright!” Throwing open the door- the words died on his lips and his jaw fell open.

“You know, the whole point of curtains is to close them. Privacy and all that. If you want to pretend you aren’t home, close your curtains next time.”

Andraste have mercy.

It was Hawke.

Hawke. Standing in his doorway. Wearing that cute little dress from Saturday and giving him a slightly cocky grin that was slowly sliding down her face into a concerned frown. “You okay, V?”

It was Hawke.

“Vaaarrrriic?” She waved her hand in front of his face, but his brain was just frozen, stuck in a loop and refusing to budge.

It was Hawke.

Here.

At his home.

Finally, words tumbled from his lips, and he couldn’t have made them stop even if he had been aware enough to do so, “Hawke. Maker, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back to get the Wardens and I should have told you that I called them. Trying to pay for everything was stupid, I should have asked you first. And I’m sorry I didn’t buy the damn curtains when you first came here. And that I threw that party. And that I was such a royal dick to y-“

Hawke laughed, placing a finger over his mouth to silence him, “V, slow down. It’s fine- really. I actually came here to apologize to _you_.”

Wait. Oh. What? “What? Why?”

Shaking her head, she smiled sadly and shuffled one foot, “I was a real bitch about the whole thing. I let my pride get in the way. When I thought the spot and the money was coming from some kind of charity foundation thing, I was happy to have it. But when I found out it was you well…. Pride and… other things… just- look I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so pissed and _thank you_ for doing that for Carver. He liked the game, by the way. I haven’t opened the wine, though.”

A few heartbeats passed before Varric managed a smile of his own, “You don’t have to thank me. And I thought you liked Antivan wine?”

Now her cheeks blushed, and oh, it was like the first time seeing her all over again, “I do. But I wanted to drink it with my annoying neighbor, not by myself.”

He nodded slowly, stomach clenching in something almost like school-crush jealousy, “Ah. They haven’t had the chance to come over yet?”

A cheeky grin started to creep back onto her face, “Oh, they did once, but I wasn’t there. Then I came over to their place, but they were apparently out with friends. Good thing I managed to catch him today, or I might have had to share it with Merrill instead.”

He was only half listening, feeling like he shouldn’t keep her here chatting if she had someone waiting back at her place for wine, “Oh. I guess that’s a good thing, then. Well, thanks for stopping by. I guess you’d better get back before your neighbor starts to worry.” He tried for a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

Hawke gave a disgusted snort that was so similar to Cassandra that it made him pause. Before he could finish closing the door, she stepped forward and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him in for a bruising and very insistent kiss.

Oh.

Ooohh!

Dizzy and confused and floating on air, Varric blinked at her when she pulled away, too dazed for words. That damn snarky grin was back on her lips, and she laughed, low and throaty and fuck it was hot. “Dorian seems like a nice guy. Isabella on the other hand, seems like trouble.”

That wasn’t… Wait. “You spoke with them?” His lips tingled and it took a lot to stop his hand from brushing them to see if this was real.

“Yes. They came to my work. We had a lovely lunch and a long conversation, and after they threatened me a bit, I decided that perhaps I should try to stop by again.”

Oooohhhh… “Your annoying neighbor….”

“Is you, you obtuse man.”

“Saturday.”

“I was coming to see you after I dropped off Cole at his second job.”

“Oh.”

There was a long pause, during which Hawke stared at him expectantly. He wasn’t really even sure what to say. Finally, she sighed and pushed him back inside, staying at the entrance of the door. “Why don’t you go get changed into something nicer, we can go to dinner, and then we can go back to my place and enjoy that bottle of wine.”

Something clicked, and he couldn’t stop the cocky grin on his face, “You got it, darlin’.”

* *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! These idiots are adorable.  
> Never fear, this isn't the end! Ok, it's the end of the main story, but I have a bit of smutty goodness planned for a bonus chapter. If that's not your thing, no worries- you can skip it because there's no plot and it doesn't change the story. They get a happily ever after, and that's what matters.  
> I hope you all enjoyed this random plotfest!
> 
> EDIT: So, after actually writing the next chapter, I have discovered some plot. And fluff. And feels. You should read it.


	3. More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be just a smutty bonus chapter.   
> Suddenly it has plot. And fluff. And feels. And is nearly 10k words.
> 
> I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.  
> Enjoy!

 

Varric wasn’t nervous. He didn’t _get_ nervous.

He was shaking because he hadn’t eaten anything, and his tie wasn’t wanting to sit right, and his hair kept frizzing out of the little ponytail, and his suit wasn’t sitting on his shoulders right, and it had just been a really long week and-

Ah, fuck. Who was he kidding?

He hadn’t been this nervous since his first real date in college. Here he was, standing in his bathroom with his tie half undone, muttering curses to himself because he had been avoiding going back out to the front room- just in case the whole thing was a dream and Hawke wasn’t actually here.

Shit. Hawke was really here.

Hawke kissed him.

Hawke. Kissed him.

Was there anything normal and believable about that statement? After a few seconds of going over their ‘relationship’ so far- no, no there wasn’t. And yet, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Well, other than him standing there like a complete idiot while a gorgeous woman kissed him on his front porch. But other than that, totally natural.

Giving it up as a bad job, Varric ripped his tie off, tossed it back into the closet, and undid the top couple of buttons on his shirt. Fuck it. He wasn’t going to try to be someone else tonight. Hawke was here for _him_ , not for some ‘knight in shining armor.’ If this was going to actually be something, it needed to be real.

Finally emerging into the front room, Varric plastered his best smile on, hoping it hid the nerves, and grabbed his keys, “Alright, Chuckles. Since you seem to be leading the show, where are we going?” The long, appreciative once over that she gave him helped boost his confidence again and made the smile feel a lot more genuine.

Hawke laughed, clear and honest and it felt so good to hear that in his own house, “Honestly, I hadn’t really gotten that far. Any recommendations?”

“Ya, I might know a place.”

A half-hour later they were seated at the newest trending restaurant in Kirkwall, enjoying some appetizers and cocktails on the house while they watched the poor sobs that were still waiting for a seat.

Hawke dropped her voice to a low whisper, just barely audible above the music and conversation around them, “I can’t believe you got us in here so quickly! I heard the host say it was a two hour wait for a seat at the bar!”

Varric grinned, sipping at his glass and giving a little shrug, “A journalist never reveals his sources.”

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a good-natured smile, “That’s not entirely true. I’ve heard a lot of secrets get revealed during pillow talk.”

Innuendo. Varric was _so_ ready for innuendo. “Hm, true, but only if both parties are awake enough after.”

“Oh? And what’s your technique for expending that kind of energy?”

He gave her a roguish wink, “Dwarven stamina.”

There went another eyeroll, “You aren’t that short, V.” she deadpanned.

“Hey now! I’m not ashamed of my height. Nothing wrong with being five foot six.”

She smiled again, something softer and a little more sensual, “I never said I was complaining.”

He snorted at her, waving a breadstick in her direction, “You have a think for short guys, don’t you?”

Oh, how he loved that laugh! She threw her head back with it, grin splitting her face and hands coming up in surrender, “You’ve got me. I have a kink for short, snarky men with tendencies for exhibitionism.”

Nodding as if that settled it, he returned to his drink and said with confident finality, “I knew it. I’m irresistible to you.” He had predicated another eye roll, or maybe a laugh, but the damn sexy smirk she gave him was unexpected and definitely worth exploring.

So of course, that’s when their main course showed up.

The rest of the meal mostly involved eating, talking about Carver’s progress with the Wardens, making fun of the people in line, and a heavy sense of anticipation.

Varric wasn’t _expecting_ anything to happen. Hell, he’d be just fine if she called it a night after they paid the tab. But she was making it very clear- that was not her intention. He’d felt the brush of her foot against his leg more than once, seen the little uptick at the corner of her mouth when she glanced at him, and the occasional innuendo definitely helped. He didn’t expect, but by the Maker did he _hope_.

When they did finally leave, Varric wasn’t sure how to ask what the plan was (when did he turn into a nervous schoolboy?), so he was completely relieved when she asked first. “So, back to my place to try that wine?”

Casual Varric. Act casual. “Sure! Sounds good.” And a dazzling smile reward him. He slid into the passenger seat and tried to look as casual as he’d sounded. Maker, if he couldn’t get this jittery mess under control he was going to end up embarrassing himself. Come on! This was the woman who had seen him showing off his sheer curtains! She knew what she was getting into. Oh Andreste, she’d seen him through the window doing Maker knows what…To the void with it. He was nervous as hell and no amount of ‘pep-talking’ was going to fix it. As they drove through town and back to her place, he found his heart trying to claw its way out of his throat and his palms sweating enough to probably leave stains on his pants.

What was it about this woman that just kept him on edge- of multiple types?

They’re arrival to Hawke’s house was greeted by a terrifying sound- the booming bellow of a massive dog. Varric found himself taking a cautious step backwards when something massive slammed against the door while Hawke worked on unlocking it. Seeing the movement, she glanced over her shoulder and offered him a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry. Dog is a sweetheart- he just sounds big and vicious.”

Another slam on the door and Varric eyed it warily, “ _Sounds_ big? Hawke, I’m pretty sure that thing is a monster.” When the door opened, it revealed one of the largest purebred Mabari he’d ever seen. The beast’s head was definitely chest height, and it was a _mass_ of muscle and bone. “Uh, Hawke...”

Ignoring his worry, Hawke threw her arms around the beast’s neck. “Who’s a good guard dog? You are! You are the _best_ guard dog! So vicious!” The entire time she was squeezing his wrinkly face and his was wagging his giant butt like there was no tomorrow.

Honestly, Varric shouldn’t have been so surprised. This was the woman who had rattlesnakes as pets, after all.

Oh Maker.

She had rattlesnakes.

Probably in this very house.

Suddenly, the dog didn’t seem like such a scary monster.

“You coming inside, V? I promise Dog won’t hurt you. He’s all bark. And drool.”

Varric shook himself, and slowly stepped inside, “If you say s- wait, his name is just _Dog_?”

Hawke shrugged and dragged the beast away from the door so he could come further inside, “Carver named him when he was a toddler. I tried renaming him, but Dog preferred that to Sir Barkington the Third, so Carver won.”

“I think he might have picked the better name.”

“Hey! Sir Barkington is a tradition in my family! It is a noble and prestigious name.” Hawke turned her nose up and stomped off through the house, but Varric could tell by the shaking in her shoulders that she was holding back laughter.

Shaking his head, he took the opportunity to look around a bit.

The house modest, but in good shape for being a bit older. Boxes lined most of the walls, though the couch and the TV had been setup. Amusingly, the couch had a box on either side and a line of boxes in front of it that were obviously acting as tables. Man, that was like a flashback to college!

He heard the back door slide open and closed, presumably to put Dog outside. Hawke came back in a short while later with the bottle of wine and two red, disposable cups. Yep, college. “I know it’s not elegant like you’re used to, Mr. Hightown, but I have no idea which box my glasses are in, so you get to slum it with me tonight.” She poured them both a glass, and then set the bottle down, “Well, want the grand tour?”

“Sure, let’s see your new castle.”

She led him further into the house, turning left into a small hallway. Pictures already graced the walls- photos of her and Carver at varying ages, along with photos of friends and family. There was a door on the right and two at the end of the hall. “So, guest bathroom his here-“ she flicked her hand to the first door, “-then Carver’s room for when he gets back is on the right-” the room had a small bed and a handful of boxes in it, with paint swatches taped to the walls “-and the guest bedroom-slash-study on the left.”

This room made Varric gasp a little and step into it, Beauty and the Beast style- only _he_ was Belle. It was obviously the master bedroom and so far the only room that was completely unpacked. There was a bed tucked into one corner, with comfy looking pillows against the wall so that it acted more like a reading couch. The rest of the room was covered in bookshelves, floor to ceiling. At a glance he saw fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, psychology, sociology, political science, a whole massive section of biology and herpetology (of course), and even a little section that had a few familiar spines in it- his own books, both the good mystery novels and the awful smutty ones. “Hawke- this is amazing!” He turned back to her, stunned. Somehow, he just never quite thought of her as being as bookish as he was.

She blushed and rubbed her shoulder a little, “Thanks. I thought you might like it. You’re welcome to borrow anything from it, too.” He grinned at her a little longer, before she turned and waved him to follow her.

They moved back through the front room and she stopped only briefly to point out the kitchen, “Obviously the kitchen, plus a little dining room thing, and the back door. Yard’s not as big as the last place, but at least I have a privacy fence.” That made him wonder a little- what did she need a privacy fence for in the yard? They continued down the last hall, with two doors at the end. “Laundry room on the right as well as the pantry for some reason, and of course, my room on the left.” This time she avoided looking at him and her ears went bright red.

Well, he had to at least take a glance.

The room was only a little smaller than the library, but it was dominated by a large bed- cali king maybe? It was rapidly apparent why she was blushing- she must have been doing laundry because there were three sorted piles on the floor. Yet another surprise- she had a rather impressive collection of really cute, lacy underwear. That took his mind all kinds of places and he stepped back into the hallway and tried to change the subject in between long sips of wine, “Well, it’s a nice place. I saw you were painting it- not renting, then?”

Obviously grateful, she took his cue and ushered him back down the hall towards the front room, “I actually managed to get my full asking price on the house across from you, and the Wardens said Carver’s treatment was getting a discount since he was one of their few patients right now, so I figured, why not?” Flopping down on the couch she topped off her glass and gestured for Varric to sit down. “The mortgage is actually less than rent on most apartments, so I might as well.” She eyed him a bit, then pat the couch beside her, “I won’t bite. Mostly.”

Realizing he’d just been standing there, staring at her a bit awkwardly, he gingerly sat down, “Sounds like it worked out, then.” He took another sip of his wine, humming in appreciation, before slowly asking, “So… Where’s the uh, snake from my yard?”

Confusion flit across her face for a moment, before she realized what he was talking about, “Oh! She’s in the shed. I converted it with an A/C unit.”

“Are, uh, all of your snakes out there?”

Hawke shook her head, giving him a sympathetic smile, “No, a friend of mine is looking after a few of them until I get unpacked. The non-venomous ones will come inside. Just the hots will stay in the shed.”

“Hots?”

Setting her drink down she shrugged, “Hot, as in ‘do not touch, stove is hot?’ It’s sort of a joke name for venomous animals.”

“Oh. Makes sense, I guess.”

He could feel an awkward silence starting to creep in, but despite being an excellent conversationalist, he had no clue what to say.

Lucky for him, Hawke did, “So, movie?”

Sighing with relief he leaned back against the couch, arms on the back, “Sure. Whatchya got?”

She pulled a remote out of thin air like a damn magician, and turned on the TV and a console, “Netflix?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, giving her a sly grin, “Oh I see how it is- you just brought me over for Netflix and chill, huh?”

There was the sly smile again- he loved that look on her. “And here I was hoping you were too old to know that tactic.”

“Ouch! I’m not that much older than you, Hawke.”

“Oh? How old do you think I am?”

Putting up his hands, Varric shook his head, “Oh no, I’m not falling for that one. Never guess a ladies age.”

“Pft. Lady? Really, V?”

He shrugged, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as his voice dropped to a low rumble “You look like one in that dress.”

Pink graced her cheeks, but she kept a smirk on her lips and mischief in her eyes, “Thank you, Varric. I’m sure you’d look like one in this dress, too.”

The bark of laughter that followed that statement helped them both relax a bit more, and when he’d stopped laughing long enough to notice, he realized that Hawke had scooted up next to him and tucked herself under his arm and against his side. She was scrolling through Netflix like nothing had happened, but the pink ears gave her away. Sliding his arm down onto her shoulder, he gave her arm a little squeeze before diving into a happy debate with her about what they should watch.

Somehow, they ended up on a classic medical comedy that they could laugh at and still chat without feeling like they were missing out on the plot. By the time they were finished with the bottle of wine, Varric was feeling pretty relaxed and confident.

Until she kissed him again.

Much like last time, he wasn’t really well prepared for it. One minute they were laughing and smiling at each other, the next she’d turned a little more towards him, one hand pressed to his chest, and was kissing him.

When he didn’t immediately respond, she pulled back, concern on her face, “I-I’m sorry, I should have aske-“

He quickly tugged her back into a kiss- there was no way he was going to let her finish that sentence. This time he was ready and more than happy to show her that he could do more than stand or sit there numbly. The feel of her lips on his was heaven, but he didn’t want to push his luck too much. Moving back again, he gave her a little half smile and was please to see it returned.

Shaking her head, she tucked her legs up under her so she was sitting at more of an angle, shy smile shifting a little towards sly and then back again, “You didn’t have to stop.”

That was a perfectly good invitation and no gentleman would let that go unanswered. Swooping back down to capture her lips, he wasn’t satisfied until she whimpered and was leaning against him once again. With her legs tucked half under her, he managed to slide his arm down her side and behind her back, pulling her almost flush against his body. _This_ was how you were supposed to kiss someone- curled together on a couch, ignoring anything beyond your little bubble of the world, and tasting of wine and laughter.

One of her hands stayed pressed to his chest, fingers sliding a little through his chest hair (hadn’t he had more of his buttons done up a moment ago?), but the other touched his knee, fingers sliding up to his thigh to pause there, before sliding back down to his knee again. She paused, her forehead touching his while their breath mingled between their lips, “Is this ok?”

It took him swallowing a couple times to remember how to use words, but he finally managed to give her a smile and a small kiss on the nose, “It’s more than ok. You call the shots tonight, Hawke, I’m just along for the very enjoyable ride.”

She gave him a shy smile, “I just don’t want to step over the line- do anything you aren’t ready for.”

Chuckling softly, he shook his head, “So far so good, right? If I don’t like something, I’ll tell you. Don’t you worry, darlin’.” He brushed another small kiss against her lips, before asking as well, “What about you? Is everything ok so far?”

Hawke laughed, “This isn’t ok- it’s _wonderful_. It has… been a while.”

There was something strangely satisfying about that statement- maybe the stroking of his ego, or maybe that she was breaking a dry spell with _him_. Either way, he grinned at her and slid both of his hands to her hips, squeezing them appreciatively. “Well then, feel free to take as much or as little time as you need. I won’t try for anything you don’t do first. Deal?”

Nodding at him she smirked and shimmied her hips a little, “Deal.” Instead of returning to kissing like he though she was going to, she pounced him- throwing one leg over his lap and straddling him with a happy little chirp of a laugh.

Surprised, but in no way objecting, Varric gripped her hips a little tighter and helped keep her from tumbling backwards off the couch. “Well, hello there! Can I help you with something?”

She gave a little noise- somewhere between a groan and a growl- and did that damn hip shimmy again. Oh _fuck_ that felt so much better _on_ his lap instead of next to it. “I think maybe you can.”

He couldn’t help the little thrust his hips gave, but damn was he happy with the pleased purr of approval she gave. He’d been hard for the last ten minutes at least, so to feel her this close- hot and oh so willing…

And then a phone started ringing.

Cursing under her breath she collapses onto him, head buried in her neck with a very not-sex-related groan of annoyance. “Damnit it all to the void…” Sighing, she wiggled off his lap, nearly kneeing him in the process, and snatched her phone from the table/box. “Hello?”

Varric let his head fall onto the back of the couch, his eyes closing. Of course this would happen. Right now. When they were finally alone and not mad at each other over anything and actually pursuing whatever this _thing_ was between them. His skin was still tingling and he could taste her on his lips and of course, whatever it was that was happening would definitely put a full stop on the night.

Hawke was still on the phone when Varric cracked an eye at her, and he could see her fighting to keep a calm and professional voice. Work related, then. “Ya… No, it’s fine... I don’t- Just text me the address… Alright, see ya tomorrow.” Finally hanging up, she stared at her phone for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath and turning back to him with a wan smile, “I’m sorry. Emergency removal call, and no one else is available.”

Varric shrugged and stood up, “It’s alright, Hawke- I understand when work calls. Been there, done that.” He started to shuffle towards the door a bit, feeling a little awkward now. Obviously she needed to leave, so if he just called a cab that would mean she wouldn’t have to drag him along or drop him off first.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Her eyebrow was raised and her lips pursed playfully.

Confused, Varric cocked his head a little, “Don’t you have to go?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to. It’s just up the street. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes or so.”

Wasn’t that a pleasant turn? “Oh! I mean, I don’t want to be a bother or anything-“

She waved him off, cutting in front of him to get to the door and taking his hand gently, “Hush. You aren’t a bother.” Giving him a brief kiss, she tipped her head towards the left hallway, “Go drool on my library books. Carefully. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Well now, he couldn’t say no to that! “Alright. Stay safe.”

Hawke laughed, and gave his hand a squeeze, “I always do.” With that, she whisked out the door and left him alone in her house.

It was a little awkward, standing in her front room with a raging boner, grinning like an idiot. To the library then!

* *

This wasn’t working.

Fifteen minutes later, and Varric put down the book he’d been attempting to read. Despite absolutely loving the library and being genuinely interested in seeing what she had, he’d be completely unable to think about anything other than what was about to happen. Or what wasn’t about to happen.

Had she sent him to the library to cool his heels? Was it an excuse to get out of what they’d been heading towards? Should he be ready to just go home when she got back? Maybe she just didn’t want to drive him in the company car?

What if she wasn’t expecting him to be actually reading when she got back? Maybe she wanted him to still be waiting for her to crawl into his lap again. Did she want him to be naked? He could take off his shirt. No, that was weird. Should he sit in some sexy way? No, the whole ‘draw me like one of your French girls’ meme ran through his head and that was just- no.

Was there a book she had meant for him to see and comment on? Could this be some kind of test? It was a test, wasn’t it? Maker, was he totally failing it? And where the hell had ‘Confident Varric’ gone? This was the man who could pick up any girl at the Rose with a few words and a smoldering look. Who could strip a woman of her clothes in a matter of minutes inside, without ever touching here. Where the hell had _that guy_ gone?

Of all the people he’d ever been around, Hawke was the second to put him on edge like this- but he was pretty sure she wasn’t doing it on purpose. Wait, was she doing it on purpose? Some kind of revenge plot? No, that wasn’t her style. Right? Well- the image of a toy snake on his front porch flashed through his mind- ok, revenge was her style, but not this indirect. So, it wasn’t a plot. But then, what was it?

Maybe he should just call a cab. She could be another hour if something happened- shit! What if something happened? She could be in the hospital right now! Wait…When was it expected for him to leave if she went to the hospital? He should call the hospitals _first_ , and _then_ call a cab.

This was ridiculous.

Taking a slow, deep breath, Varric closed his eyes and held it in for a count of three, before letting it out in a whoosh of air. He was being ridiculous.

This was just sex. Potentially. This was just potentially sex. Hell, it was nothing that she hadn’t seen through the damn window at his house, and nothing that he hadn’t done just a few short weeks ago! So why in Thedas was he so panicked? For some reason, it was Dorians voice in his head that answered.

_He was emotionally invested in Hawke._

Well, shit.

Sure, he’d had sex with women recently. A lot of sex, with a number of women, if he was going to be honest. But they’d been just that- sex.

Hawke was different.

Hawke got under his skin. She ruffled his feathers and made him really think about the best way to get back at her. For every snarky comment he made, she had two more ready to snap back. Some people might have thought her a bit plain or average, but Maker did she do things to him. Sharp wit, beautiful mind, and fucking sexy body- fuck.

Well, not only did he have a boner again, but he was fucking emotionally invested in Hawke.

Shit.

SHIT.

What should he do? Panic? He was already doing that, so check. Call it off? … Y-no-… Maybe. No. Fuck. No. It had been more than ten years since fucking Davri crushed his heart- surely, he could move on, right? Yes. Pull up your big boy underwear and be a fucking man!

At least the boner was gone again.

“Your face will freeze that way.”

Jumping out of his skin, Varric leaped off the bed and whirled around- to find Hawke grinning at him from the doorway. With his hand clutching his heart, he shook his head slowly at her, “You could warn a guy before sneaking up on him like that. At my age, I might just drop from fright.”

“Pft.” She sauntered in, a pleased grin on her face, “You really aren’t that old. Besides, I tried to warn you. I called your name when I came inside, and again standing here at the door.” Now there was less than a foot of space between them and _oh boy_ there went Varric’s heart rate again! “Not my fault you didn’t hear me.” Her voice had dropped lower and her hand brushed his arm, sending a little shiver up it.

“Ah. I was, uh, distracted.”

“I see that.” Her smile softened to an edge of concern, “Is everything alright? Second guessing tonight?”

Smoothing one hand over his head, he sighed and looked down at his feet, “It’s just… been a while.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, “Pretty sure most people wouldn’t consider a couple of weeks a ‘while.’”

Varric shook his head, looking up at her with slowly reddening cheeks, “I don’t mean sex, Hawke.”

It seemed to take a bit for her to get it, and he was worried that he’d have to actually explain, until he saw it click into place. “Ah.” There was a long silence, during which Varric tried not to fidget or look her in the eye and Hawke studied him intensely. When she spoke again, it was softly, with painful understanding, “How long ago?”

With a sigh, he rubbed the stubble on his face and looked away, “A while. Over ten years ago, kind of while.”

She nodded and took a little step back, offering him more space and room to breathe. “We can slow down, V. I told you, I don’t want to step over any lines or make you uncomfortable.”

Knowing that she was serious, and that she was willing to give him space, brought that confidence back and just endeared him to her further. He smiled and took a step forward, his hand now brushing her arm (and noting the goosebumps that broke out with great satisfaction). “Thank you for offering, Chuckles, but I’m already head over heels for you, so slowing down is a bit of a moot point.”

Hawke blushed and smiled, taking his hand and tugging him back out of the room. “Then why don’t we go back out to the front, finish watching whatever episode we were on, and go from there?”

Varric smiled back, following her willingly, “Sounds good.”

When they got to the couch, though, Varric decided to take control back from his chaotic brain- he wasn’t going to let an old flame burn out this relationship before it even got hot! As soon as he was next to the couch, he flopped down across it and pulled Hawke down on top of him. Not as smooth of a move as he was hoping, he still managed to get one leg up on the cushions and only hit his head slightly on the arm of the couch while not getting kneed be a startled Hawke.

Laughing, she shifted around a little more comfortably so she was straddling his hips, one leg dangling off the side of the couch, and shook her head playfully, “So no TV, then?”

His hands slid back to her hips again, thumbs running up and down the soft curves, “Mm, I don’t think so.” Sliding one of his hands up her side, he tugged her down for a kiss, but she put her hands to his chest and paused.

“Are you sure about this, Varric?” Concern bled through her previous smile, and all he wanted to do was kiss it away.

His fingers found her face and he cupped her cheek, “I’m positive.”

Smile back, she leaned down the rest of the way and kissed him. “Good, ‘cause I _really_ wanted to do this for a while now.”

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled it a little until she tipped her head so he could nibble at her neck, “Oh? And just how long is that?”

Whimpering a little, she rolled her hips against him (damn he was starting to love when she did that) and managed to gasp out, “Um… about five weeks now?”

Despite his brain rapidly losing the ability to think, it managed to do some quick math and- Varric pulled back a bit so he could look Hawke in the eyes, “Wait. Seriously? That’s when you first came over to complain about my lack of window dressing.” A sheepish smile and a little wiggle of her hips made him laugh, “Holy shit, you’re serious!”

She poked his chest and wrinkled her nose at him, “Shut up! You are the exhibitionist that was doing that in front of your open window!”

“Ya, but you were the voyeur that was getting off on it!” That blush turned beat red and she ducked her head. “ _No_. You really- to me? _Watching_ me?” The image of Hawke, sprawled on the couch and angrily masturbating to his exhibitionist escapades was almost too much. But oh man, did that explain her blushing that first day!

“…yes.”

“Oh fuck, that’s hot.” He ground his hips up into her, pulling her back down for a brutal kiss. Neither of them holding back anymore, he found that even as he was trying to pull her dress over her head, she was tugging the rest of the buttons open on his shirt. There was some muttered curses and a lot of laughing, but eventually they were both sans-tops, and back to kissing while their hands explored each other’s skin.

When he nipped a bit too hard on her neck, she gasped and moaned, but whispered, “Too high. Work.” Right, jobs- not a great place to display love-bites. So, he moved down and bit the meat of her shoulder, making her groan and rub against him. In retaliation she tugged the tie out of his hair until it came undone, then pulled a handful at the base of his neck until he thrust up against her with a rumble of approval.

Hawke sat up abruptly and Varric, hands slipping to her hips again, worried that he’d done something wrong- only for his mouth to go dry at what she was doing. Perched on his hips, Hawke was pulling off her bra and _oh fuck_ was this the best fucking night he’d had in a very long time. As soon as the fabric was gone, he couldn’t help but let his palms slide up her sides to cup her breasts, running a thumb over the pebbled nipples. “Maker, you’re beautiful.” And she was. Sitting there in just her cute black boy shorts, looking down on him with lust blown eyes.

Rolling her eyes, she batted his hands away and leaned over him (affording him a _very_ lovely view), “Varric, I’m thirty-four, out of shape, and pretty smack dab in the middle of average, as I’ve been told on occasion. You don’t need to flatter me to get into my pants- I’m happy to get you into them regardless.”

Varric sat up, pulling her upright but still in his lap, “Hawke, I’m only going to say this once. I don’t give a nug’s ass how old you are or what other people have told you. You are _beautiful_. I’m not saying that to get into your pants. I’m saying that because I’ve thought it since the first day you came to my door to complain, under false pretenses I might add, about a lack of curtains.” Knowing that if he gave her the chance, she’d keep objecting, he captured her mouth with his and worked and _showing_ her just how attractive her found her. Hell, if she couldn’t feel how hard he was from where she was sitting, he was doing something wrong. He ran his hands up her back and down her sides, fingers digging into taut muscle and ghosting across those little spots that made her shiver. Finally, they fell onto her hips again, even as he nipped at her bottom lip, and pulled her hard down on his lap, grinding up against her heat, “Do you _feel_ that, darlin’?” She groaned and nodded, head falling to his shoulder and little puffs of air warming his skin. “That’s not because you are plain. I’m this hard because you are fucking _hot_.”

Her mouth found his again and in between breaths she mumbled, “Pants off. Now.”

Giving her a little grin, he let go of her hips so she could go up onto her knees while he shimmied out of his pants, “So bossy. That the role we’re doing tonight, Chuckles?”

She just growled and helped him kick them off the rest of the way, before pausing and staring down at him. “You aren’t wearing boxers.”

He gave a cocky little smirk, “Nope.”

“Or anything.”

“Excellent observation, darlin’.”

“Oh.”

He let her look for a bit longer before he tapped her leg with his finger, “Can I help you with something?”

She finally looked up at him, a bit dazed, “You’re um… bigger than, ah, than it seemed…before.”

There was one way to keep him from flagging under her stare- a bit of ego stroking again. He couldn’t help the snarky comment that followed, though, “Through the window?”

That brought the sassy attitude back and she glared at him briefly, before an evil curl pulled her lips back up. Before he could worry about her plans, she wrapped one hand around him and- _fuck_ the feel of her fingers squeezing and sliding along his length made him groan and fall back against the arm of the couch again. Soon enough she had him panting and thrusting up to meet her hand as it slid down. “Hawke…” he groaned, wanting her to keep going, but wanting her to stop before the night ended prematurely.

She gave him a last little squeeze before releasing him. As soon as she’d let go, though, he sat up and flipped their position- pushing her back against the other arm of the couch and kneeling between her legs. The yelp she let out was cute, but the groan she gave when he pushed her underwear aside to slide a finger into her dripping heat was damn sexy. “No fair, V…”

He huffed a laugh, squishing himself down between her knees until he was low enough to kiss her hip, “Who said I was going to play fair tonight?” He scraped his teeth along the top of her hip, before kissing down the hollow just above the top of her underwear. Second finger joining the first, he reveled in the way she squirmed under his touch. But he wanted more. “What do you say, Hawke- want to find out just how much of a cunning linguist I can be?”

Between moans she laughed, squirming against his hand, “No puns during sex!”

“Ah, come on, Chuckles-“

One of her hands found the back of his head and she opened her eyes long enough to give him another playful glare, “If you don’t make use of that tongue, neither of us will be coming.”

Eyes half-lidded and voice a deep rumble of desire, he smirked, “Yes, ma’am.”

If he thought Hawke was responsive to his touch, it was nothing compared to how she reacted to his mouth. The first ghost of breath across her as he pulled her underwear to the side sent a hard shiver up her body. When his tongue ran up in an experimental stroke, she arched and whimpered. When he latched onto her and sucked, twisting his finger inside of her, she damn near came off the couch. Oh, this was going to be fun!

It didn’t take him long to find a rhythm that had her rolling her hips against him with a near constant whimper. When she’d start to tighten up, he’d shift his position or slow down just a little, until a sharp tug and a little snarl of frustration made him chuckle but stop teasing her. This time when her body started to tense and her back arch, he just sped up, curling two fingers into her and trying to hold on for dear life when her hips bucked. He felt her clench down on those fingers and _fuck_ if that didn’t keep him hard just wondering what it would feel like to be inside her when she did that.

Finally, panting and just a little sweaty, she whimpered and tugged at his hair, trying to pull him away from her. Varric watched her squirm and huff a little after he finally pulled away, filing the information away for future reference. She didn’t object to him touching her after, but she was obviously sensitive. That could be a lot of fun.

Hawke propped herself up on an elbow and brushed his hair out of his face, “I guess you do have a quick tongue.”

Rolling his eyes, he leaned forward to silence her with a kiss, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest and a scrunched face, “You might like that, but I’m not a fan of my own taste. If you go wash your face, I’ll meet you in the bedroom and return the favor.”

Yet another interesting tidbit, but honestly not uncommon. Happy to comply he carefully maneuvered off the couch and towards the guest bathroom. Walking around in the nude was something he’d happily done at home. At someone else’s house it normally felt really strange. Hawke’s? Like he’d done it a thousand times.

By the time he was out of the bathroom, she was already in the bedroom waiting nervously. The reading lamp beside the bed was on (stacked on a box for a night stand), but the rest of the room was dark. He noticed that the piles of clothes were mysteriously gone, but there was an odd lump in one corner with a blanket over it. As he walked in, he was disappointed to see her laying on the bed with a sheet pulled up to her chest but pleased to see her admiring the scenery again. A man’s ego never really got over being admired. “Enjoying the view?”

Hawke hummed appreciatively, “It’s much better in person. The sheer curtains were especially torturous.”

“Aw, here I thought they were a lovely touch.”

Huffing, she scooted over on the bed indicating he should join, “No, the nice touch was the scarf around that one girl’s wrists. Is that they only reason you have that coat hook above your couch?”

Laying down beside her he kept propped on an elbow and facing her for their little conversation, tossing the blanket over his lower half, “Mostly. I do use it for my wreath in the winter.”

“Hm.” Her gaze turned thoughtful as she slid one leg up over his hip, hitching a little closer to him. “I don’t think that scarf would hold you up, though.”

Making a face, Varric shook his head, “I’m a bit to claustrophobic to be tied up.”

“Really? I never took you for someone who didn’t like tight spaces.” Her eyebrows waggled suggestively and he groaned but quipped back easily.

“I may not go exploring the Deep Roads anytime soon, but there’s at least one cave I want to dive into.” Hands on her hips, he paused when he realized there was no longer any cloth covering them.

Laughing, she rolled her eyes at him- a frequent habit now. “That was bad, V, even for you.”

“Hey, you started it!” He rolled them over so that she was pinned beneath him, her legs on either side of his knees, “Besides, it’s true.”

“Mm, is that so?” She shimmied her hips again, hooking one leg on his waist.

Varric leaned down and kissed her beckoning lips, murmuring against them, “As long as there are no Deepstalkers, yes.”

She reached over to the box beside the bed and grabbed something, tucking her hand between them and holding the little package up. “I guess you better use protection then, just in case.”

To be able to laugh this much without losing the mood only made Varric more sure that Hawke was it, she was the one person he was going to fight to keep. Who else turned a request for a condom into a witty pun, without losing any of the momentum? Wrestling with it a bit, he finally managed to get it on and toss the wrapper off the bed, leaning back down to kiss her, “You are amazing, you know that?”

She huffed and blushed and kissed his nose, “Bit of a change in tune from someone who thought I was a total bitch just a month ago.”

One hand rand down her side while the other kept him propped above her. “Ya, but you’ve grown on me.”

“Like a fungus?”

“A very pretty fungus.”

Giggling and nipping at his lip, she used her leg to tug down in his hip. “An impatient fungus.”

“So bossy.” He murmured before kissing her deeply and finally sliding into her. She tensed beneath him, breath hitching as she squirmed uncomfortably for a moment. “You ok, Hawke?”

Taking a long breath in, she nodded, shifting and then pushing up to meet him making him growl into her lips while she laughed a little awkwardly, “Ya, just… kinda uncomfortable.”

Concerned, he started to pull back, “Do you want to st-“

“Don’t! Don’t _even_ finish that sentence.” The look she gave him was so determined that he had to laugh. Once he stopped pulling out she shifted again and smiled shyly, “It’s just been a while and you aren’t exactly _small_.”

Giving her nose a little nuzzle, he smiled and nodded, “We’ll take it as slow as you need, then.”

A mischievous glint came to her eye, “I have a better idea.” Shoving at his shoulders she pushed him off and rolled him over (not that he was fighting it). Shifting their positions back to the way they were on the couch, she straddled his hips. Reaching between them she gripped him and gave it a little squeeze, before guiding it back into her.  This fucking woman was going to be the death of him. She didn’t stop at the head but slid all the way down until she was fully seated on him, eyes closed and lips curled into a pleased, feline smile. “Thaaat’ss better…”

Varric hissed below her, hands grabbing her hips and holding on desperately. _Fuck!_ The way she twitched and fluttered around him, how tight and hot she was, it was all so fucking overwhelming- and then to see her sitting above him like this? “Fuck, Hawke, don’t move.”

A self-satisfied grin graced her face as she looked down at him, “Don’t move? That sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?” Just to make a point, she clenched around him _hard_ and ground her hips down.

“Fuck! Hawke!” He grabbed both her hands and tugged her down so he could kiss her and growl in her ear, “If you want this to last more than three seconds, you’ve gotta give me a minute to breath, love.” She went still over him and he took the moment to close his eyes and take a few deep breaths. He needed to think of something else to get his mind off of it. Anything else. Snakes. There was a whole shed full of venomous snakes in the backyard, probably right on the other side of the wall. Rubbing small circles on her skin with his thumbs, he took a deep breath in and opened his eyes slowly. Seeing her looking at him with concern and something else made him feel a little self-conscious, but he would just work through it. “Alright, I’m good.” To add to his statement, he thrust his hips up a little, making her eep and laugh.

Seeing him come back seemed to help get Hawke back into it. When she moved again, they both stopped breathing, if only for a moment. Each slow lift up brought a groan from Varric, and each downward slide brought a gasp from her. It took some murmured words of encouragement before they both found a rhythm they liked, the soft groans and whispered oaths spurring them on. Her elbows shook, so he pulled her down against his chest, changing their position so he was thrusting up into her. Her lips sought his after leaving a trail of love-bites up his chest and neck (he was quickly finding out she was a biter), and he groaned into her mouth when she pushed back against him. Sweat and heat and _need_ built between them.

“Will you come again for me, Hakwe?” He whispered against her lips. He wanted her to come undone again, but _Maker_ he wasn’t going to last much longer.

She whimpered and stuttered out the words, “I- maybe? I can’t- need _more_.” Her hand groped blindly for his where it rested on her hip. Wrapping her fingers around his wrist she pulled it down to where they were joined, whimpering but seemingly unable to form the right words.

An advantage of being a bit of a man-whore, Varric pretty quickly figured out what she was needing. Having to adjust their positions a little so she was partially sitting up again, he slid his fingers between them and searched out that one spot… Hawke gasped and ground down against his hand, clenching hard around him as soon as his fingers brushed her clit. Grinning a little, he rubbed tiny circles over it, using the distraction to hold off his own release just a little longer.

Now she was pushing back against him, thrust for thrust, gasping against his neck until she seemed to lose the rhythm and _fucking Andreste!_ she clenched hard around him, keening between her teeth, then biting down between his shoulder and neck. He road it out, barely holding on for another push before he tumbled down after her with a shout of her name and a bruising grip on her thighs.

It was a few minutes before the discomfort of having a sweaty Hawke flopped onto his chest really registered in Varric’s post-sex mind. His arms were wrapped around the small of her back and while it was more than wonderful to have her pressed against him- it was also hot and sticky.  “Hawke.” She didn’t move other than to huff a little. He laughed and slowly rolled her to the side, wincing as he felt himself pull out of her, “Come on, precious. Can’t fall asleep.” Rolling over the other way, he was grateful for a nearby trash can so he didn’t have to waddle all the way to the bathroom just to toss out the condom.

Hawke muttered something into the pillow behind him, and he laughed and turned back to her, tucking her hair behind her ear, “What was that?”

Opening one eye to give him a proper pout, she turned her head enough to speak to him instead of the pillow, “Why can’t I fall asleep?”

Varric laughed and brushed a kiss over her cheek, “I guess you can, and I can just call a cab.”

Both eyes were open now, and her forehead crinkled up in the cutest confused look she’d ever given him, “Why would you have to call a cab?”

Laying back down and staring up at the ceiling, he shrugged a shoulder, “I don’t have to do it right now, if you don’t want me to, but I can’t exactly walk home.”

There was a long silence and when he turned back to Hawke (concerned that she’d actually fallen asleep), he found her watching him with a strange look. Finally, she spoke, clearing her throat a bit first, “You don’t have to leave. You could stay the night?” It was less of a statement and very much a tentative question.

If she was worried that he would turn down an offer like that- well, she might be right. The worries that had sprung up earlier, started to leak in around the edges. Was he really ready for a relationship? Did she actually want that? He knew what he _wanted_ , and that was to keep his ass in this bed until morning and then come back every night until she got sick of him- or decided to keep him. But could he actually do that and could he handle it if she decided that wasn’t what she wanted?

When he didn’t answer her after a few minutes, she combed her hands through her messy hair and sat up, pulling the sheets to her chest and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. “Sorry, it was a silly suggestion. I’ll throw some clothes on and get you home.”

His hand pressed to the bare skin of her back before he even realized he was going to stop her. “Hawke, wait.” She paused, and looked over her shoulder at him, uncertainty playing across her face. He sighed, “I want to stay. I just… I need to know what this is going to be first.”

“What do you want it to be?”

He tried for a casual tone, but when that utterly failed, he just accepted it, “Honestly, whatever you are willing to give me. I want it to be more than _this_ , as amazing as this was. I want it to be more than a casual couple of dates. I don’t know what I want it to end up as, but I know that I… I want _more_ of it.”

Her eyes studied him closely, and he felt stripped and exposed in a way that had nothing to do with his lack of clothing. Finally, she spoke, voice soft, “Ok. Then it’ll be more.” A small smile curled her lips, shy and curious and hopeful. He couldn’t help but respond with his own beaming one as he tugged her arm until she lay back against his chest.

With one arm wrapped around her hip and the other under her head, he asked a question that made him feel every year of his age, “Do people even use ‘girlfriend and boyfriend’ anymore?”

She giggled and pushed further into him, happily taking up the ‘little spoon’ position, “I’m not sure. I think we might be too old for that. Significant others?”

“Nah, to stiff. How about companions?”

“Bleh, that makes us sound like work partners.”

“I guess that makes partners out, too.”

“I could just call you my Beau.” He could feel her body shake with suppressed laughter, and he dug his fingers into her ribs until she really was laughing.

“How about I just call you Hawke, and you call me Varric, and the rest of the world can mind their own damn business?”

She hummed happily at that, letting out a slow breath, “I’m agreeable to that.”

Turning only enough to reach the lamp and turn it off, he rolled back to her, chest pressed tightly against her back, and kissed the back of her neck, “Goodnight, Hawke.”

“Goodnight, Varric.”

 

 

 

“V?”

“Ya, Chuckles?”

“I need to let Dog inside.”

…

“And check on the snakes.”

“I’m calling a cab.” She laughed and bopped his arm with her hand. Smiling, he let her get up and tugged the blankets back over his hip. “Just don’t bring any of them in here, darlin’.”

From the light in the hall he could make out her brilliant smile, “I think one trouser snake is enough in the bedroom, don’t you?”

He groaned and buried his head under the pillow but couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

Who knew what the future held for them? Right now, he would make the most of it.

 

* *

 

                _Hey Hawke!_

_I’m glad you and Varric are working out so well, but maybe close your curtains next time?_

_I’ll just call before coming over from now on._

_Love,_

_Merrill_

 

* *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank the AO3 Writers group on facebook for all their encouragement, help, and bad puns! And my lovely girlfriend for reading and pushing me to write more. <3  
> Thanks everyone for joining me in this fun little fic! If you are interested in an epilogue or a 'part 2', let me know! Maybe I'll write more of these two idiots.


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